


Hi

by WrathoftheStag



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Coincidence, Love at First Sight, M/M, Pining, Shitty is a supportive bro, Sort of? - Freeform, coffee shop AU, meet cute, opening yourself up to love, zimbits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrathoftheStag/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: Jack keeps seeing the same cute stranger in line at the coffee shop.  Should he just say hi?  The universe is sending him mixed messages.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 69
Kudos: 351





	Hi

**Author's Note:**

> This occurred to me seeing a Tumblr post about the same people you meet throughout the day, and how they become your stranger friends but you never talk. 
> 
> I never write in the present tense, so this was unusual for me. Unbeta'd. I wrote it over the course of two lunch hours. Let's see how it goes.

It happens like this.

Jack is always walking into Luscious Lattes in time to be fifth in line. Jack knows he's on schedule when he sees his usual gang, his stranger friends. He doesn't know who they are, but they see one another regularly. There's comfort in the routine for Jack, and this motley crew has become, well, his morning crew. 

There's Red Backpack, who orders a triple espresso and looks like he's always on the verge of tears; there's Curly Hair and her chai lattes; Mr. Toque, who always wears one even in the summertime, and then there's Cowlick. Cowlick, who is usually third in line ordering his macco-choco-whatevers with extra whipped cream. Cowlick, who always has music blaring from his headphones, immediately takes a sip of his drink, licking whip cream from his straw before exiting the coffee shop. Cowlick, who wears tiny shorts and has great legs. 

Cowlick.

Jack tries not to think about Cowlick too much—how he has a honeyed accent, eyes the color of Luscious Lattes’ coffee beans, or how he always dances a little while he's waiting in line. Jack's just there to get coffee, after all. 

By the time Jack goes up to order, Cowlick's coffee is ready. Cowlick grabs it from the counter, licks his straw, and is off, leaving Jack sighing to himself like some sort of Regency heroine pining her life away.

**+**

“One triple espresso.”

Jack gets in line just as Red Backpack is ordering, and sure enough, there is Curly Hair, Mr. Toque, and, finally, Cowlick standing in front of Toque, swaying to whatever he’s listening to this morning. Jack faintly hears horns blaring.

He looks at Cowlick’s golden cowlick and has to stop himself from reaching over Mr. Toque’s head and booping it as the line moves.

“A medium caramel macchiato with extra whip, please,” Cowlick says when he finally reaches the front.

Cowlick pays and stands to the side as Mr. Toque moves up.

“A green tea latte with soy.”

Jack glances sideways, without moving his head, and oh god, Cowlick is looking right at him.

Jack’s heart begins to race as he looks straight ahead. Mr. Toque is fumbling for his wallet, and Jack thinks to himself, maybe he just imagined Cowlick looking at him. So he turns to take a quick peek and— _Crisse!_ —Cowlick is starting at him and coyly raises an eyebrow. Jack immediately looks away.

“What can I get you?” the barista asks.

Jack clears his throat. “Medium coffee, black.”

He hands over a five, shoves the change into the tip jar, and stands to the side, without daring to look in Cowlick’s direction again. He can feel Cowlick standing just behind him. If he turns to look over his shoulder, he can see him. But Jack doesn’t dare.

“Medium caramel macchiato with extra whip?” another barista calls out.

Jack swallows dryly, knowing that’s Cowlick’s drink. Suddenly, Jack feels a soft hand on his forearm. It’s Cowlick.

“Pardon me,” he says as he presses against Jack to step in front of him and grab his drink from the counter.

Jack looks down at his hand, feeling the heat radiating off his body, then up at Cowlick’s face. The look he gives Jack can only be described as smoldering.

“Just need to get my coffee,” Cowlick says as he looks at Jack’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “Thank you.”

And then just like that, he’s gone. 

“Sir? Sir? Your coffee?” the barista says to Jack, sounding annoyed.

Jack takes the cup and mindlessly walks outside, looking to the left and right, wondering if he can catch a glimpse of Cowlick.

“What was that?” he says to himself and swallows dryly.

**+**

“I don’t get it, Shits. He’s just… really cute, you know?” 

“No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me again for the umpteenth time, brah?”

Jack is fixing himself a PBJ after coming home from practice. He’s on the phone with Shitty, who is taking a break from working on a deposition, and Jack can practically hear Shitty smile over the phone. Jack smears his peanut butter onto his bread, maybe a little too aggressively. 

“He’s cute, okay?”

Jack has to admit that he hasn’t been this taken with someone—well, possibly, ever. Which Jack knows is silly. He doesn’t know anything about Cowlick. For all Jack knows, he could be a terrible person. Or someone who loves the Leafs or Aces or something.

There's just something about Cowlick that Jack finds so appealing. Sure, he's attractive, but that’s not all. Jack looks at him and thinks, "I could probably tell you anything… and it would be okay." It makes Jack feel safe and completely vulnerable all at once. He doesn't think he likes that, but he doesn't _not_ not like that either. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him?" Shitty says. "Jack, you’ve been drooling over this guy for weeks, just say hello. Hell, buy him his fucking coffee already.”

“I can’t do that,” Jack says. “I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“How? How can you have no game whatsoever looking the way you do? It’s one of the riddles of the Sphinx, I swear to god,” Shitty says with a long-suffering sigh.

“What does how I look have anything to do with it?” Jack asks.

Shitty snorts. “You sweet summer child. Just tell Catlick you think he’s the most beautiful man in New England, for crying out loud.”

“Catlick? It’s Cowlick!”

“Hell, I don’t know, Jackabelle. You’re the one giving him the goofy-ass nickname.”

“That’s fair,” Jack laughs. “So, what? I’m just supposed to talk to him?” 

He puts his sandwich down and hops up on the kitchen counter to sit.

“Yes! That's how it works. Just say, ‘Hi.’ It’s that simple, brah. I promise,” Shitty says, sounding more exacerbated. “He can either say hi in return and then start chatting, and you’ll have beautiful babies together, or he can just say hi, and that’s it. End of story. Either way, there’s a resolution.”

Jack pauses. “Just like that? Just hi?”

“Or you can pull him into the bathroom and kiss ‘em.”

“I can’t do that! That seems rude?” 

“One, I was kidding. It’s all about consent, Jack-o-lantern. And two, well, you better do something because I’m t-i-r-e-d tired hearing of all this pining. It’s like a goddamn Edith Wharton novel up in here.”

After Jack hangs up, he thinks about it. He takes a bite of his sandwich and swings his feet. Is it really that easy? Can he just say “hi” and see where it goes from there? 

“I guess tomorrow I just say hi.”

**+**

Jack walks into Luscious Lattes wearing a nice pair of jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. If he dressed up a little, well, it was only because he was finally going to say hi. Or something. Maybe.

He gets in line and frowns when he sees Red Backpack at the register, Curly Hair behind him, followed by Mr. Toque and no Cowlick. Anywhere. Not a cow or lick to be found. Jack feels himself deflate. Of course. Of course, when he’s finally going to say hi, Cowlick is a no show.

He shoves his hands in his pocket, suddenly not sure if he even wants his coffee anymore. He has two people behind him already and decides just to get it. Mr. Toque orders his usual green tea soy thingy, and something tells Jack to look over his shoulder. So he does—and there’s Cowlick. 

He smiles and quickly turns back toward the counter as he feels his heart race. So should he still say hi? Cowlick is right there, and sure they’re a little flip-flopped—Jack is ahead of him in line—but there they both are. 

“Can I get a medium black coffee?” Jack asks.

He hands over his five, places his change in the tip jar, gets out of line, takes two steps back, and is now parallel to Cowlick.

He looks down at his feet, then over to the right. He can see Cowlick chewing on his bottom lip as he looks at the menu on the wall. Frankly, it’s adorable.

He’s about to mention what a great day it is. Sunny and not too windy with a low pollen count. Something.

"I, euh--"

“Medium coffee, black?” the barista says as she hands him his coffee.

“That’s not mine,” Jack replies quickly without thinking.

“Yeah, dude. It is,” she replies unperturbed as she nudges the coffee toward Jack. 

The line moves, and Cowlick is no longer next to Jack.

“Um, thanks,” he says. He turns to look at Cowlick, who is now looking at his phone, so he just leaves.

**+**

The next morning, Jack is in line, and Cowlick is ahead of Red Backpack. He turns to look at Jack and, inexplicably, offers a small shrug.

**+**

Another day, Jack walks out of the Luscious Lattes’ bathroom (He had a lot of water that morning, okay?), just in time to see Cowlick exiting with his coffee in hand.

Well, the universe certainly isn’t making it easy for Jack.

**+**

“I think this is just a sign to forget it. He’s either in line way behind, or ahead of me, or just leaving as I get there. Our perfect timing is now screwy. I finally decided to be proactive, and the universe said, ‘No way, Zimmermann.’”

“Dude, that is damn defeatist,” Shitty says as he helps himself to another slice of pizza.

Shitty drove in from Boston to have his monthly dinner with Jack, and Jack was in the middle of relaying his romantic woes while Shitty watched a Red Sox game.

“Or is it practical? I’m traveling all the time and it’s not like I even know if he likes me. I’m setting myself up for heartache over some stranger who may not even be interested.”

“Brah, I say this with love. He wouldn’t give you a smoldering look if he wasn’t interested, so get your head out of your beautiful ass.”

“Well, it’s a moot point anyway because I haven’t seen him at all this week, and then I’m going on a long roadie on Monday. End of story.”

Shitty puts his pizza down and looks at Jack thoughtfully.

“Jack, it’s okay to let yourself have this. Or at the very least try.”

**+**

“How do these look?” Shitty asks and gracefully points his foot, which is now clad in a bright red Birkenstock.

“They look just like the purple ones,” Jack says as he sits on a bench in the middle of a busy shoe store, helping Shitty pick out his umpteenth pair of Birkenstocks. “They look fine.”

“I dunno,” Shitty says as he kicks his leg up.

“Shits, just get them both, already,” Jack says. "Why am I here?"

"Like at the store, or in an existential way?" Shitty asks.

Jack doesn't answer and thinks maybe he should stop by Luscious Lattes. You know, just in case. He hasn’t seen Cowlick in almost two weeks. Cowlick wasn’t at the coffee shop last week, and then Jack was gone on his roadie. He wasn’t there when Jack returned either. 

Jack wonders why he feels this profound sense of loss for something that was basically nothing. There wasn’t anything between him and Cowlick—god, he doesn’t even know his name. Yet, Jack feels it. Feels it deeply.

“You’re here because you’re my friend,” Shitty says, “and I don't like shoe shopping alone, and Lards refuses to enable my quote-unquote Birkenstock addiction any further." 

Shitty walks in a circle and pauses in front of the store mirror. 

"Hmm, maybe. Should I try on some blue ones?”

Jack smiles. “Yes, try the blue ones.”

Shitty grins as he flags down the store clerk.

“Okay,” Jack says while he pulls himself off the bench, “I’m going to look at gym shoes while I’m here.”

“Oh, running out of yellow gym shoes, are ya?” Shitty chirps.

Jack grins and surreptitiously gives Shitty the finger, who, in turn, barks out a laugh. 

“Don’t take long, I’m _this close_ to making a decision,” he says.

“Yeah,” Jack says as he begins to walk away and looks back at Shitty, “and I’m sure you’ll--”

 _Oof_! Jack instinctively reaches out to catch the person he almost knocks down and then is nearly knocked out himself when he realizes who it is.

It’s Cowlick.

"Yellow Feet! Oh my god, it’s you!"

"Yellow Feet?" he asks, completely bewildered. 

Cowlick laughs. "Lord, I'm sorry. That's, um, what I call you. I go to Luscious Lattes? I see you all the time? Or, at least used to."

Jack smiles awkwardly. "Yeah, I know. You're always one person ahead of me."

“Or three people behind, two in front,” Cowlick says, smiling back, eyes shining. "It’s great to see you out in the wild. They temporarily changed my hours at work for a few weeks, and I was afraid I’d never see you again."

"Oh, uh, yeah?"

“Yeah, silly. I’ve been trying to say hi to you for weeks now—but wasn’t sure how,” Cowlick says.

Jack is taken aback. “To me?”

Cowlick smiles, a brilliant thing. “Yes, you. I mean, I saw you looking at me and, I’ve been looking at you _forever_ and, you know--” he says as he blushes. 

The two smile at each other, without saying a word. Jack can’t tell if it’s for two minutes or two hours, and he doesn’t care.

“Do you, um, want to get some coffee?” Cowlick finally says.

Jack can’t believe what’s happening. “How about something else besides coffee? Maybe some lunch?”

“Who’s this?” Shitty asks, appearing at Jack's side suddenly, bursting their bubble of intimacy.

“It’s Cowlick,” Jack blurts out as Shitty’s eyes bug out.

“ _The_ Cowlick! No shit!”

“Cowlick?” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair and blushes yet again. “Lord...”

“Yellow Feet, eh?” Jack chirps sweetly.

The two smile at each other once again, and Shitty is looking at them like he is witnessing the greatest thing in the world unfold before him.

“So… lunch?” Jack asks again.

“That sounds great. How about right now?”

Jack says, barely able to contain his glee, “I’d really like that.”

“I’m Eric, by the way,” Cowlick—or rather, Eric, says.

“Jack,” he replies. 

“I, uh, have to be over there, uh, yesterday,” Shitty says as he quietly walks away grinning ear to ear.

“Hi, Eric,” Jack says, almost breathlessly. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Hi, Jack.” Eric says softly.

The two smile at one another as they walk toward the exit, Shitty watching fondly from behind a sale rack. 

Jack opens the door for Eric and as they make their way to lunch (a small diner just down the street with great BLTs), neither one is fully prepared nor understanding the wonderous thing that is about to begin for them both.

And that is how Jack meets his fiancé, Eric. 

It all starts with a simple hi.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Bitty later** : Seriously, you called me Cowlick, honey?
> 
>  **Jack** : Well, I couldn't call you Legs. That would be too objectifying.
> 
> ***Bitty smiles smugly***
> 
> Come and say hi [on Tumblr](https://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/post/629980230734479361/hi).
> 
> All OMGCP characters belong to the brilliant Ngozi Ukazu.


End file.
